


Take Me Back

by Iceshard1011



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Siblings, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Explicit Language, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hangover, Hurt/Comfort, I wish I could say I was drunk when I wrote this, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Possibly Unrequited Love, Underage Smoking Mention, fluffier than it sounds, he's fantastic, janus has a pottymouth, janus is a lil baby, logan isn't unsympathetic but he's a bit of a dick, patton is a honey, rated mature to be safe but it's probably a little exaggerated, remus is sympathetic but an absolutely awful role model, remus is the crazy uncle, talk about alcohol and smoking, unexpected remus angst out of nowhere, vague blood mention, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iceshard1011/pseuds/Iceshard1011
Summary: Janus has always thought his uncle was the coolest member of the family.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 17





	Take Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> title could be interpreted any way but honestly i got inspired by Mimi Webb’s 'I’ll Break My Heart Again'.

Janus woke up very suddenly.

Surprisingly, he remembered... most of what had happened last night, although he wouldn’t exactly beg for details.

With a groan, he sat up in his bed. He was surprised Last Night Him had been in enough of the right mind to change into pajamas before passing out. He leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone, but the screen failed to light up when he tried turning it on.

Enough common sense to get dressed but not enough to charge his phone.

_Here’s to hoping for no multiple texts and missed calls from my parents,_ Janus thought glumly.

Chances are, those two would have gone to sleep long before Janus had. Neither of them were the type to stay up to three in the morning after a day of travelling and pretentious meetings with pretentious people.

With a quiet sigh, Janus threw off the blanket and walked out of his room.

‘Staggered’ was a more accurate descriptor, but Janus wouldn’t admit that, even to himself. He was far more in his right mind than he was last night — he would not be as undignified, fumbling and rolling around the place like a damned beached dolphin.

Getting down the stairs should not have been as hard as Janus made it, leaning heavily against the railing and at times stumbling down multiple stairs at once.

The living room was quiet apart from the bone-rattling snores coming from the couch.

Janus huffed when he spotted his uncle. The room smelled like alcohol and pizza. Janus hoped to God that nothing had been spilt on carpet or furniture.

He padded across the carpet, grimacing when he saw the empty bottles lying around the ground. He nudged his uncle’s shoulder.

“Remus,” he whispered. “Hey, asshole.”

His uncle grunted. His eyes opened a moment later.

“Can you help me clean up?” Janus whispered, and Remus grunted again. He sat up, rubbed his head, his dark hair sticking up in odd directions.

“How’re you feeling, Pipsqueak?” he asked, squinting at Janus.

“I’m not terrible,” Janus admitted. Remus huffed.

“You lucky little devil,” he grumbled. “I feel like shit.”

“That’s what happens when you drink yourself to ruin,” Janus said with a smirk. Remus shot him a toothy grin.

“You better watch it in that case. It could be contagious. I’ll drag you down with me.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You are not as bad as Pa makes you out to be.” He picked up the nearest of the glass bottles and moved into the kitchen to dump them in the rubbish bin with an attack of obnoxious clinking.

“If you had a sibling, you would also be bad mouthing them to your child,” Remus said as he stood from the couch and stacked empty bottles onto a pizza box, taking it all into the kitchen. “When are they back in town, anyway?”

“Yesterday Dad told me around lunch,” Janus said.

Remus yawned. “Well, better get the place cleaned up before they come to pick up their trophy son.”

Janus didn’t roll his eyes this time. He was used to Remus’ antics as the crazy uncle, but that didn't really stop him from being Janus’ favourite family member. Remus didn’t baby Janus, or smother him in affection, or shoot him sympathetic looks when he scratched at the burn scars along his face. Remus was carefree and proud and had the kind of unapologetic mindset Janus wanted to have — without the obvious aversion to shaving products and the constant need to dye his hair ridiculous colours.

“Pretty sure you threw up last night,” Remus said as they moved around the living room, picking up stray bottles and plates and pizza boxes. Janus scowled as he stored a plate of leftover pizza in the fridge.

“I get it,” he snapped. “I’m a lightweight.”

“You did well, actually,” Remus assured him. “But it was still funny to watch.”

“I’m sure you rubbed my back and talked me through it lovingly,” Janus said, a mix between scathing and teasing.

“Yeah,” Remus said, “all while recording, too.”

_“What?”_

Janus shrieked while Remus laughed and scurried out of the kitchen, crowing, “I’m not sorry, Pipsqueak!”

“Bitch!” Janus cried. He started to make chase, but his stomach twisted in protest and he quickly staggered to a stop to lean against the nearest wall. Remus was laughing again, but Janus couldn’t really focus on him. “Stop laughing,” he groused.

“You’re hungover.” Janus felt a warm hand on his shoulder. For a mindless moment, he was almost certain his parents had arrived far earlier than they said they would, and Pa was at his side, but then Remus snorted again, and Janus wanted to punch him. “It’s hilarious.”

“Har-har,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to stop the pounding of his head. He didn’t know how long he had been there, but when Remus held out a glass of cold water and a pair of little white pills, he realised he must have lost track of time.

“For your headache,” Remus said, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was sweet or irritating.

Janus grunted in response and took what was offered to him with a grimace. “You’re an asshole.”

Remus’ laugh was something that made Janus’ head pound even more.

The pair spent the early morning like that: cleaning the living room, snapping back and forth at each other, drinking gallons of water. Remus thought it was a goddamn comedy show. The urge to wring his neck was slowly increasing in Janus' mind.

“This is the LAST TIME I’m EVER coming to your place for fun!” Janus hollered as he stomped up the stairs. He cut off Remus’ cackling when he slammed the bedroom door closed and flopped onto the guest bed.

A _bing_ made him look up.

**_Dad_ **

_How are you? We’ll be home by 1:30._

Janus sighed and scrounged across the bed to his phone.

**_Me_ **

_Remus is annoying. Please come rescue me._

He threw his phone down and curled up on his side, wondering if he could catch some extra hours of sleep before being dragged home. For maybe the first time, he almost wished that his parents _weren't_ super-famous and super-rich and always being called to board meetings and conferences and panels.

He couldn’t complain too much, though. Remus never snitched on him, never lectured him, never gave him that disappointed dad look that somehow every adult managed to pull off.

Sure, he knew that Remus wasn’t the greatest of role models. He certainly knew that his parents wouldn’t let him anywhere near his uncle again if they knew he smoked and drank and encouraged ridiculous ventures like sliding down a staircase with nothing but a sheet for a ride and a pillow for a shield to ward against the rapidly rising floor or any walls that suddenly got too close.

But he was much more fun than his Dad’s constant worrying, or his Pa’s lectured on the ‘right kind’ of adventures.

There was a knock at the door. He grunted in response and it opened.

“You smell.”

Janus raised his head, glaring at Remus. At this point he was fairly convinced his uncle was one of his demons personified and following him everywhere.

“What,” he groused, “of vomit or alcohol?”

“Weed, actually,” Remus said, and Janus yelped.

_“We smoked weed?”_ he cried. He really should not have been surprised when Remus dissolved into giggles at the foot of his bed.

“I’m fucking with you,” he said, heaving a breath. He moved to place a fresh glass of water on the bedside table. “Don’t worry. The vape I gave you only had nicotine.”

_“Only,”_ grumbled Janus. Remus shot him a sharp smile.

“You _did_ beg me to bring out the bong. What I gave you was tame.”

Janus groaned again, rubbing his face furiously. “I’m never drinking with you again. Wait, no, scratch that — I am _never drinking again.”_

“Good thing, too,” Remus said. “You look like shit. Your parents are going to take one look at you and decide I gave you food poisoning.”

“You gave me _worse,”_ Janus muttered as he stood up. “Get out, I’m having a shower.”

“Please do. Just don’t throw up in the sink again.”

“Stop!” Janus cried, shooing his uncle out of the room and slamming the door in his face.

Muttering mutinously, Janus grabbed the cleanest smelling clothes he could find and shuffled out into the hallway to the bathroom. Remus wasn’t waiting to ambush him with more teasing, which was a relief.

What _wasn’t_ a relief, however, was when Janus eventually arrived back downstairs, he found two extra adults sitting at the table.

“Uh,” he uttered, caught off-guard. “Hi, you two. What’re you doing here?”

“Your father was very insistent that we came to ‘rescue you’,” Grandpop said. “He’s apparently convinced that Remus has somehow been torturing you.”

Remus, sitting across from them and sipping from a mug, chortled. Granddad shot him a disapproving look, which quickly quelled his snorting laughter.

“Be nice.” Patton swatted a light tap to his husband’s arm. “That’s not what he said at all.”

“He _would_ say that, though,” Logan grumbled, and Patton chuckled. Janus let himself relax, realising that there was no evidence of last night strewn around the room anymore. He grinned and crossed the room to greet his Grandparents.

“Hey, Jay,” Patton said brightly, opening his arms for a hug. Janus had learned very early on to not try and escape his granddad’s affectionate nature. He knew full well that if his dad had never managed to escape his own parents’ show of love then Janus himself had no chance.

“We’ve been instructed to take you home and wait until your parents arrive back in town,” Logan said as Janus was squished to Patton’s chest.

“Huh?” he uttered.

“We were told to _offer_ that to you,” Patton corrected. “But you don’t have to do anything, kiddo.”

“Wow, Roman hates me that much?” Remus asked with a grin that was far too sharp.

“Virgil, actually,” Logan said, and Patton looked like he wanted to grab his husband by the ear and drag him outside.

“They _don’t_ hate you,” he said firmly, and Janus did believe that, but he wasn’t sure Remus did, by the look on his face. _“Virgil_ just doesn’t like risking ignoring possible sarcasm in texts. And that’s okay! You know how he is.”

“Helicopter parent,” Janus muttered, and Remus choked on his drink.

“He is not,” Patton said with a laugh, pushing Janus’ shoulder. “We raised him to be just the right amount of overbearing and trusting.”

“Where’d he get the constant worrying from then?” Janus asked.

“Study shows that an individual’s anxiety rapidly increases after meeting Roman,” Remus said, and dodged the swat Patton aimed at him. “It’s true! Scientifically proven and everything!”

Logan muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “And what would _you_ know about studying,” but Janus wasn’t sure anyone else heard it.

“Come on, Pipsqueak, back me up!” Remus called, still darting away from Patton, who had stood up to swat at him with his cane. “You agree, don’tcha?”

“Sure,” Janus said. “But only unfinished data isn’t that reliable. Where’s the other half of the data talking about anxiety spikes from _your_ general existence?”

Remus’ mouth hung open, and he almost looked like a splitting image of Pa.

“You little—” He lunged for Janus, who failed to scurry away in time and got swept up in his uncle’s arms. Shrieking laughter made his grandparents wince when Remus started digging his fingers between his ribs.

“Okay,” Patton said after a mini show of Janus escaping Remus’ arms, rolling across the floor and then tackling Remus’ legs, sending them both to the ground. “I think you’re okay to stay here for a few more hours.”

“Yeah,” panted Janus, sitting up from where he’d been squeezed between Remus’ ankles. “It saves an extra trip for you guys.”

“Oh, you know we don’t worry about that,” Patton said. “But if you’re sure.” He moved to kiss the top of Janus’ head. “We’ll let your parents know.”

Janus grinned brightly. “Thanks for checking up.” He scrambled away from Remus to hurry over and hug both of them before they disappeared out the door. Janus waved them off happily enough, but when he returned into the house, Remus was staring glumly at the far wall. Janus watched him before clearing his throat.

His uncle jumped, looking startled, and sprang to his feet. “Well, that was thrilling. How about some pizza for brunch?”

“No, thanks,” Janus said as Remus moved to the kitchen. “I’m not too hungry. I’ll just... eat when I get home.” Remus rummaged around in the fridge before emerging with a slice of pizza and eating it cold. “Hey, um... Are you okay?”

Remus blinked, arching his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said with a full mouth. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Janus shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. Remus tilted his head. “Grandpop can be- um... blunt.”

“I’m not stupid, Pip.” Janus winced. Remus didn’t look bothered despite what he said next. “I’m well aware they hate me.”

“They don't!” Janus protested.

“Logan always despised both me and Roman,” Remus said, and Janus’ jaw snapped shut. “He only ever loosened up around your father because he made something of himself and his talent. And I sat around and drank.”

“There’s nothing wrong with drinking.” Janus’ voice was weak.

“There is when you’re underage,” Remus said. “And Logan didn’t want his well-raised son anywhere near a pair of dirty, homeless magnets for trouble.”

“Did you ever get arrested?” Janus asked quietly, because between all of his family members he still knew little to nothing about Roman and Remus’ past. Why that was the first thing that came to his mind, he wasn’t sure.

“No,” Remus said with a hint of a smile. “By the time we’d discovered all of the illegal things we _could_ do, Virgil was there to either talk us out of it or convince the police to let us off. We were lucky.”

Janus squinted at the expression on Remus’ face, and wondered if there was far more to his uncle and his dad than he knew.

“But Granddad and Grandpop didn’t like that,” he guessed.

“Patton was worried he’d get hurt because of us. Logan figured we were tainting him.” Remus shrugged. “I suppose he can’t be blamed. Virgil does have a ghastly pottymouth because of us.”

“Pa hardly ever swears,” Janus pointed out.

“Not around you,” Remus countered. He sat down at the table with a groan, wiping the pizza crumbs on his pants. “We got into some trouble, one night. We slept down in an alleyway, most nights. It was often more sheltered from the wind than any of the parks, and our backs were covered. God, this is pathetic.” Remus rubbed his hand over his eyes. Janus had never seen his shoulders so tense.

He moved to sit next to his uncle, still listening with rapt attention. It must have shown on his face, because when Remus looked back up at him, he looked amused for a moment before speaking again.

“Some kids from Virgil’s school found us. I would call them assholes, but they couldn’t have been any older than we were. They were probably just curious.” Remus wasn’t looking at Janus. “They arrived the same time Virgil did, and... maybe they were a little shocked, or offended. Maybe they were Virgil’s friends. I don’t know. I never regrew enough of a backbone to ask.”

Janus swallowed, not liking the way Remus was talking. “What happened?”

Remus looked almost detached. He sounded like he was talking about the way a soccer match would play out.

“Oh, somewhere between the kids shouting and Virgil defending himself and me pissing them off further, a knife was pulled, and your father did what your father always tries to do: try to fix things.” Remus sounded angry. Janus wondered who at. “By the time Virgil had dragged the pair of us back to his big, fancy house and gotten blood all over Logan’s carpet, Patton was just about ready to adopt the pair of us then and there.

“They called a private ambulance — those are a thing, apparently — and Virgil convinced them not to call the cops. I... don’t really remember what I was doing the whole time. Probably having a panic attack.”

“Pa was okay, right?” Janus asked before he could stop himself.

“He’s still around to take care of you, isn’t he?” Remus’ brittle smile was hollow. “The asshole’s probably _glad_ he got stabbed. Virgil kissed him after it, anyway.”

Janus’ eyebrows shot into his hairline. _“That_ was their first kiss?”

Remus’ smile was a little more real, his eyes sparkling. “I think the only reason they didn’t bone then and there was the blood loss making Roman loopy.”

“And that they were underage,” added Janus.

“Never stopped either of us before.” Remus grinned and Janus made a face.

“Eww! _Remus!”_

Remus huffed, amused. He batted playfully back at the hits Janus sent his way, but he didn’t smile.

“By the time Roman was fine and Logan and Patton had decided they were keeping us, I was already so far out of the equation I wasn’t even a considered variable. Logan had already decided at that point that my artistic ability wasn’t worth his attention, but Roman’s talent in writing always seemed to intrigue him. Patton still makes an effort for me out of pity, I think. Roman’s convinced himself that I hate him. I don’t know where he got that idea from. Maybe he’s developed Virgil’s habit of jumping to conclusions.”

Janus clasped his hands together so tightly they turned white. “Is that why you aren’t close anymore?”

“Well no, I’ve also pulled a box cutter on Roman, and given Virgil several panic attacks throughout the years.”

“On purpose?” Janus squawked.

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth. “I never _meant_ to freak Virgil out. Sometimes I just… said some wrong things or acted the wrong way. He never liked that sort of unpredictability. Maybe that was why Roman was the favoured brother. Never made a ruckus or attracted danger.”

“Did _you?”_

Remus shrugged. “A lot of it wasn’t… intended. Roman and I were both temperamental kids, but I just... _did_ stuff about it.”

“Like pulling knives on people?” Janus demanded.

“I never _used_ it! Except on boxes. And some unfortunate bugs.”

Janus wrinkled his nose, and Remus ducked his head.

“I guess I’m telling you because... I don’t want you to think your parents’ distrust in me is unjustified. They are who they are in life because they allowed themselves a chance to grow. And I’m here, in this shitty old apartment, mooching off their savings because even now I refuse to make a good living for myself.”

“You’re good, though,” Janus said quietly. “You don’t have to be rich to be good.”

“I got you drunk on vodka and Red Bull last night, Pip,” Remus said, unimpressed.

“I encouraged it!” Janus protested.

“You’re fifteen,” Remus argued with a scowl. “You don't know what’s good for you.”

“Don’t use that card!” Janus cried. “You know what, fuck this! I don’t care what anyone thinks. Don’t listen to Grandpop or his opinions — he's a _grump!_ He always has been! He’s like that with _everyone._ I don’t care what he thinks or what he wants.”

“Janus—”

“Come to dinner.”

Remus looked like he was moments from throwing himself off the chair with shock.

_“What?”_ he demanded shrilly.

“Come to dinner,” Janus said again, firmer. “Hell, we’ll invite Grandpop and Granddad, too.”

“Pipsqueak—”

“I don’t care if they don’t like it.” Janus was pacing now, waving his arms wildly as he talked mostly to himself. _“They_ can’t decide which members of my family I do and don’t invite into my own house.”

“Wait, listen—”

“Dad might be a little uncomfortable, and Pa talks like you annoy him, but I know he doesn’t hate you!”

“Janus!” Remus gripped his nephew’s shoulders. “I don’t _want_ to go to dinner with you.”

“Great,” Janus replied, not missing a beat. “I don’t think they’ll want you to come either. No one wins!”

Remus spluttered, bewildered. “Wha— _why,_ then?”

“Because _I_ want you to go. Because you got me hungover, so you owe me. Because Dad and Pa left town for the third time this month even though they promised last time was the last time, and they’ll feel guilty and agree to just about anything I want. Because Grandpop and Granddad love me and will do anything I want them to, even if it means putting up with their own discomfort.”

Remus stared down at him.

“You’re becoming an awful little manipulator, aren’t you?”

“That’s one thing I don’t get from you.”

“Well, I hardly imagine you got it from Virgil.”

“No. It’s something I learned myself.”

Remus hummed, gazing down at Janus with some akin to pride in his eyes. “I never have been very good at saying no to you, have I?”

Janus’ returning grin was victorious.

Remus sighed, shaking his head. “Alright,” he murmured, and Janus’ heart seized with excitement. “But if the night ends with Virgil dragging me out by my dick, it’s your fault.”

Janus snorted, collapsing against the table with giggles. “Okay,” he said. “Deal.”


End file.
